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ms-rampage · 2 years ago

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Patrolling Partners

I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for a little over 3 months, but c’mon the idea/image of Lloyd, or Six killing Clickers, or any of TLOU2 infected/enemies is an amazing crossover! This is a “The Gray Man” and “The Last of Us Part 2” crossover. Well, it takes place in TLOU universe.

Authors note: If you've never played The Last of Us, I’m so sorry. Cuz there are a few references.

Characters: Y/n Y/L/N (female reader). Lloyd Hansen. Court Gentry. Fitzroy. Claire. Dani Miranda. Suzanne Brewer (mentioned).

Warnings: Language, Lloyd being an asshole to Y/n

Word count: 2.6k

Non-canon shit because… zombie shit. They gotta work together to survive despite most of them wanting to kill one another. Y/n = Your name. Y/L/N = Your last name

After leaving Europe, and landing in the U.S after a long painful flight. Fitzroy decides that clearing out an old Fireflies outpost in Boston would be the best place to hide out because of all the infected that roam the area. A heavily fenced and secured, what was once a luxury hotel that was once overruned by infected, and stragglers.

Y/n Y/l/n being one of the few remaining Fireflies that haven’t been killed, or gotten infected by fungus. Cordyceps brain infection as its called, some doctor in Salt Lake City, Utah is searching for cure.

But what the others, except Fitzroy, didn’t know was that you were immune, you had gotten bitten when you were 13 after the Fireflies disbanded, and moved on towards Washington going by WLF, or Washington Liberation Front. You are now 24 and still showed no signs of infection. Leaving Europe months ago, you were on your own, then you found a boat that was surprisingly still working, and running. Sailed off to Europe, this was after you had gotten infected, and it was only a matter of time before the fungus did its thing, and turned into one of those brain dead zombies. 13 and working a boat, now ain’t that a bitch.

You landed somewhere in Spain fighting off Spanish infected, backpacked your way into France, then Switzerland, eventually you found yourself in Czechia, you met Fitzroy in Prague. You were camped out in an abandoned church living off of rabbits and purified river water. He took you in since you were just a kid, and he found out you were an ex-Firefly soldier. Your parents died when you were very young. Fast forward to 11 years later.

Having ex-CIA agents, pretty much trained killing machines living under the same roof, can lead to some pretty violent outcomes.

Y/n wakes up to the sound of Lloyd and Court arguing, even from 2 floors up you can hear them bicker like brothers.

It was after 6am, it was snowing outside, and you knew you had to go patrolling soon. It was cold, even though you had the fireplace lit in your room, but assuming the wind blew it out, a very drafty room you have. You put on your cotton slippers, and a thick sweater, you still shiver with it being 28 degrees no matter how many layers of clothing you have.

You walk down the hall of the abandoned Fireflies outpost, you walk past Claire’s room.

“Y/n?,” she says, laying in her bed. You take a few steps back and a few into her room, standing at the edge of her bed.

“Yeah?.” you respond, crossing your arms to keep yourself warm.

“Did Lloyd and Court wake you up too?.” she asks, looking cold and exhausted from traveling overseas in an apocalyptic world. Even having a thick velvet blanket wrapped around her, and several lit candles in her room.

You sigh, nodding your head, “Yeah they did. I’m about to go tell them it's too early for arguing.”

“Are you going on patrol today?.” she asks before you leave her room.

“Unfortunately, your uncle wants me to keep an eye out for any stragglers.” you tell her, “He wants me and Court to go.”

“Which horse are you taking?.” she asks, sitting completely up in her bed.

“I’m not sure, I’m sure Court would want to go by foot, but the weather isn't good for on foot patrolling, at least with the horses, they'll be alert when danger is near. I’ll probably take LaRae, my Thoroughbred.”

You take a few steps back out of the room, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep in, I’m gonna tell Lloyd and Court to shut up.”

With that being said, you head downstairs, hearing the bickering brothers of Lloyd and Court, even though they’re not brothers, or related in any way that you know of.

“You know we can’t stay for long.” Lloyd tells the others, “I’m sure we had people following us.”

“No one followed us Lloyd.” Fitzroy tells him, trying to be reassuring, but to no avail, “Y/n and you are going patrolling.” You hear this by the time you get to the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/n? I’d rather get eaten by a fucking Clicker then patrol with her.” he tells him.

“She’s a good kid Lloyd.” Court tells him, “She’s an ex-Firefly.”

“Blah blah blah, I don’t give a shit if she's an ex-agency. I ain’t riding any of those smelly ass horses either.” he continues to belittle you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it Lloyd you don’t like me, and I don’t give a shit if you think of me as a little ex-Firefly who’s inferior to you. Also thanks for waking me and Claire up with your arguing.” you tell him as you walk into the room, “I thought I was patrolling with Gentry? Why am I finding out now that I’m going with Lloyd?.”

“I need Court here. So you and Lloyd are patrolling.” he tells you, “Him and Dani are gonna find some resources for us.”

“So where are we patrolling?.” you ask him, still trying to warm yourself up.

He shows you on a map he has on a table nearby, “This route here, you’ll go up this road going north it’ll take you a mile around the surrounding area, and back to here, there are a building on this route that I want you two to check out look for supplies that can be useful. You’ll most likely run into a few of our people going in the opposite direction.”

After he gives you orders, you go upstairs to get changed for the patrol, getting into warmer clothes.

You’ve known Lloyd for years, but he was still untrusting to you, but you didn’t really care, you used to have a crush on him, then that's when he started to belittle you, and treated you like shit. Court was always sweet towards you, him and Lloyd didn’t get along at all. They argued like a married couple, even though there are bigger problems in the world.

You were sure they've tried to kill one another, but Fitzroy was very strict, and made sure there were others around that could calm them down if they were in the same room together, primarily you, Dani and sometimes Suzanne.

You treated Claire like a little sister, you were protective of her. She reminded you of you when you were 12/13 years old, in some ways, you were tough as a kid being raised by a revolutionary militia.

You go downstairs, and run into Dani in the main hall. “Y/n.” she says, setting down her cup of coffee.

“Dani.” you respond, you two got on from a rocky start, but your friendship eventually grew, “Do you need anything?.”

“Don’t let Lloyd get to you, he’s an asshole.” she says, “I know he doesn’t trust you, despite how long you’ve been by Fitzroy’s side.”

You let out a soft scoff, “I don’t need Lloyd’s approval. He has to deal with me on our patrol, and in general.” you tell her, “You, Court and Fitzroy have been nothing but accepting to me, even though it's been, what? 11 years?.”

She lets out a side smile, “When you’re out you think you can look for some more medical supplies? Anything will be fine.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll keep an eye out.” you tell her before leaving outside to the snow covered courtyard.

The team had made the hotel a safe haven, killing any infected or trespassers on sight.

There was an area where the horses were kept, and opposite where the vehicles were. Not sure why Lloyd wanted to patrol by vehicle when all the vegetation had overgrown the entire surrounding of the hotel, the roads destroyed over the years, and cars, trucks piling all over the place. A literal apocalypse, and he's worried about smelling like horse ass.

You go over to the stables, and Lloyd is immediately on your trail.

“Nope, no. Not happening.” he tells you, “I ain’t riding no damn horse.”

You can’t help but laugh at this 40 year old man, and his disgust for animals, “You seriously want to drive a truck? Attract attention from infected, and possibly other enemies?. Not to mention the weather conditions we are currently living in.”

He just stares at you, he knew better than to attract attention from infected and enemies. The weather isn’t exactly vehicle worthy, 3 feet of snow. “You can drive your precious vehicle, but I’m going by steed.” you mount your champagne Thoroughbred mare.

“If you change your mind then maybe we can work on our friendship!.” you say sarcastically, as you ride towards the front gate.

When you get to the gate, as the guards open it to let you out, “Hold on!.” you hear Lloyd’s voice, you look back, and see him mounted on a black Thoroughbred stallion that you knew goes by the name Blackjack.

“Glad to see you changed your mind.” you tell him. Giving him a smirk.

“Shut up.” he tells you as he rides off, following the route Fitzroy had given you. You two ride in silence, the only sounds are the hooves of the horses walking through the snow.

You wanted to say something, but that would probably lead to you two arguing, but you didn’t want to be in silence.

“So why were you and Court arguing?.” you ask him, looking over at him. He always has a serious face on.

“You heard that, huh?.” he responds.

“Yeah, you woke up Claire and I.” you tell him, “I was gonna tell you guys to shut up.”

“You would tell your boyfriend to shut up?.” he throws back at you.

You scoff at his comment, “Boyfriend? You? I’d rather get eaten by a fucking Clicker than call you my boyfriend.”

You throw his Clicker comment back at him from earlier. He rolls his eyes, “You are too young for me sweetheart. I meant Gentry, I’ve seen how he looks at you. All lovey dovey, and shit.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Court is my friend. He’s actually nice to me unlike you.”

You really wished Court went with you on this patrol.

“I think he has more than just friendship on his mind Y/n.” Lloyd continues.

You change the subject, “I have a question for you Lloyd. Why do you hate me? I’ve been working with Fitzroy since I was 13 years old, he took me in when I left the U.S and sailed to Europe on my own after the Fireflies-.”

He cuts you off, “After the Fireflies disbanded, and they moved to Washington, I’ve heard that damn story before.”

“So why the hate Lloyd? I’ve been loyal to this crew for 11 years, I’ve killed infected, and trespassers. I’ve proven my worth and loyalty to him.”

He stays silent for a few minutes until you two get to the building on your route down the snowy path, the wind is starting to pick up. “Check inside for supplies.” he says before unmounting.

“Alright.” you respond, unmounting. You approach the abandoned building with graffiti on its walls, and boarded up windows. It looks like it was a sporting goods store because of the posters outside on the walls outside.

You push on the front door, it's stuck, probably locked on the inside, or something blocking it.

“Door is jammed.” you tell Lloyd. You step to the side to let him try to open it even though the outcome will be the same thing for him.

“Well shit.” he mutters, “Look around for another entrance.”

You go to the side of the building, and see a window. “Lloyd, can you boost me up there.” you motion to the open window which is about 7 feet up.

He stands against the wall, and cups his hands together ready to push you up. “C’mon.”

You step back a few feet, jump up, placing your foot onto his hands. He boosts you up into the window. Crawling through, you drop down, gun in hand ready to shoot some infected that may or may not be hiding in the back of the abandoned store.

“Check what's blocking the door.” you hear Lloyd’s muffled voice from the outside.

“Hold on.” you tell him, scanning the store for any potential enemies. You check the front door, and see a metal office desk blocking the door.

You move it out of the way, the damn thing weighs a ton. You let out a groan as you move it.

“Don’t kill yourself.” Lloyd tells you, hearing you move the desk outta the way.

“Shut up!.” you groan as you move it out of the way completely, and unlock the door. Letting him inside the store.

He draws his weapon as the two of you look for supplies. You two didn’t find much, you found a few items that Dani had asked for earlier.

“Y/n!.” Lloyd calls for you in a loud whisper.

“What?.” you respond, not aware of what was happening.

He shushes you, and motions you towards him. You automatically assume, and draw your weapon. Looking through one of the gaps between the wooden panels on the window, you see 3 infected 20 feet from where you are at. Horses nowhere to be found, probably got spooked off.

“The wind is starting to pick up.” he tells you, finish the patrol and get back to the outpost.

He applies a suppressor on his pistol, you do the same. The quieter the better.

You both quietly exit the store, the blizzard is starting to make everything foggy, and it's a lot more difficult to see the zombies before you. A silent blizzard, you can hear the groaning, and grunts of them. Sounding like they’re taking a shit, or something.

You shoot one of them in the head, Lloyd being more experienced at shooting than you, he takes out the other two very easily.

You whistle for your horse, and they both immediately respond.

“Let’s go!.” he sounds taking off in a full gallop, before you’re able to even mount yours.

“Lloyd, slow down!.” you shout out, as the snow storm blinds you. Not being able to see the horse you're riding, but you know the trail very well. Guide her to move faster, but the blizzard is blind her as well.

You’re internally panicking, but pushing your horse isn’t a good thing either. You finish your patrol, and you see the lights of the hotel outpost.

“It’s Y/n! Open up!.” you shout at the guards, the gates open immediately, and you are met with Court and Dani.

“Y/n! Are you alright?.” Court asks you, worry and concern in his voice. You unmount your horse, and reassure him.

“I’m fine, got caught up in the storm, and Lloyd left me behind.” you tell him.

Look of anger on his face made you worry for Lloyd’s well being for ditching you, “Hey, I’m fine Court. Really, I am. We just got separated in the blizzard, it happens.”

You reassure him, and he calms down.

"Still he should've stayed with you. We should've gone on patrol together, and he stayed behind." he tells you.

"I'm fine." you tell him again.

"Run into any trouble?." he asks, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"A few infected, but we took care of them, like usual." you give him a smile, and he gives you one back

You start to think about what Lloyd told you earlier, about Court having more than just friendship on his mind in regards to you.

#the gray man #lloyd hansen #court gentry #the last of us part 2 #the gray man x the last of us part 2 #my crossover shit #my crossovers #sierra six #chris evans #ryan gosling #zombie au #apocalypse au #my series #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us 2 #the last of us

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

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do you have any fic reqs? like, any (reader insert, perhaps?) fics that you def recommend to read haha im kinda curious what type of fics you like :)

Well, I have a lot of them, but here’s a rough list (some really broke me but at the same time propelled me to write for angst):

Of Truth and Lies by Anake. [Hetalia fic, fem!Northern Italy x Spain] I read this when I was 13 or 14 (?) and it made me cry so much. I just love apparent the love was between the two characters yet they’re so caught up in the complications of it all, and how one person was so ready to give it all up, but allowed herself one last moment with her love to move on. It has no happy ending, and the songs used were so beautifully tragic.

Jaded. [Detective Conan fic, Hattori Heiji x Toyama Kazuha] This is a now-deleted work, and my heart will forever ache for it and it’s also one of my absolute favorites. Full of heartache and pain, especially with a twist I did not see coming, but the guy was so willing to help her recover and even chased after her when she moved to US.

Anything by @alkhale. I first read her Jack Frost fic, which then brought me to her profile and read her Magi fic, her Haikyuu fics, her DC fic, and then her BNHA fic. Oh, there’s also her JJK fic. I’m so in love with her writing style and how she still instills a troubled MC that everybody loves, yet is so oblivious to it all and is trying to make a new for herself.

Comet by katyastark/@quirkthot. [Boku no Hero Academia fic, Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku]. This was my very first bakudeku fic that I found myself reading that I thoroughly enjoyed because it has everything - angst, most especially. She’s now one of my favorite fic writers (for bakudeku, at least) and I’ve been reading a lot of her works now because she’s amazing with whatever she writes.

Heartaches and Devotion by Lady Fuyuki [Fairy Tail fic, Gray Fullbuster x Juvia Lockser] I’m a big Gruvia stan, and they're my ship in Fairy Tail. What I love about this was that the writer used a trope and delivered it well. You can tell that two sides are trying to move on, but failed, and the only way they can move forward is by accepting each other.

Anything by Seeress. She mostly writes for BNHA, specializing in BakuDeku. She has a lot of angst fics (on ao3 and twitter) that are just so good. I really can’t name just one, because she really explores the complexities of love, the angst of it all, and the exploration of the characters.

Four Seasons of Loneliness by rydia. [Dragon Age fic, Alistair Theirin x Mage!Hero of Feraldan/Solana Amell] Um, I am yet to actually finish my Dragon Age: Origins ga,e, and I’ve already finished the last two games. Still, this is those ‘turn back time and change fate’ kinda fic that’s satisfying, because you can relieve the consequences of your actions and make your ‘what ifs’ change.

Swallow by @all1e23. [Marvel AU fic, Bucky Barnes x Reader] One of the cutest, beautiful, yet tragically beautiful fic I’ve read for MCU. Also, basically, anything Allie writes is golden. She also inspired me to post here on tumblr and continue writing!

Spider-Man series by @hey-marlie [Marvel fic, Peter Parker x Reader] Marley did an absolutely splendid job with this series. It’s very well-written and stays true to the source material, without ever losing its touch, especially with the reader. Reader’s role is very impactful to almost everyone around her, but Marley makes it a point to show really immerse and involve you as the reader. Also, I gotta respect her mad nerd skills for tossing a lot of references only comic fans will understand more than the movie fans of Marvel.

This is a very rough list of what I can recommend to you. But, they’ve all really helped me write my angst and are ones that really helped me write for angst. There’s a lot more fics I would love to recommend, but, again, this is a rough list and some I can name at the top of my head :D

I’m extremely picky with my fics. So as you can see in my list, they’re all angst - ranging from mild to heavy angst. What can I say? I’m a sucker for pain ;”D Also, exploring your emotions in these fics is very satisfying to me.

Not a lot of reader-insert, because I mostly read them for smut purposes. There’s a few angst, but nothing really comes to mind.

#alicemitch09 answers #there's a lot #but here's a rough list #:">#fic recommendation

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sunnysviolin · 4 years ago

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Kel and Aubrey going around interacting with people to learn about the different cultures everywhere as they travel, wearing cultural outfits, participating in cultural activities, just having an overall good time...

Would they be good at any cultural dances? Since they're traveling to Spain first, I can just imagine Aubrey in a flamenco dress with Kel as they just dance together and enjoy themselves (or maybe Kel wearing the dress- or maybe both of them wearing dresses-)

...I kinda wanna draw them dancing around together now.

-from a videogame-world traveling anon

nonnie.....nonnie wait....if you drew something we created together I would be SO EMO WAIT!!! No oh my god like my brain literally just exploded like art?? ART??? I wanna be able to draw so bad...but I can’t I just gotta continue on w my lil writing bits....here take some more writing bits nonnie

*Singing to myself* This got lonnng againnnn I’m putting itttt under a readdd moreeeee

Kel’s parents are....less than pleased to find out their son isn’t directly going to college like Hero did, and they make that known.

They don’t approve of his choice to take at least one gap year. They don’t approve of him not continuing his education. They don’t approve of him throwing away his life for that bad girl that spent so many years terrorizing him. Even two years after changing her ways, Aubrey is still regarded as a nuisance among the town old timers. Kel’s parents tell him plainly that they don’t approve of Aubrey, and they won’t be changing their mind.

Which leads to Kel having a minor breakdown and finally admitting what he’s known his whole life- that he will never be good enough to measure up to Hero, and he’s finally tired of trying to be someone he’s not. He isn’t Hero and he never will be, but for once he wants being Kel to be good enough.

Seeing their bright positive middle child finally crack under the weight they’ve been unintentionally laying on him is...it’s painful. Kel’s parents never meant to make it a competition between their sons, they just wanted what was best for both of them.

Having Kel sobbing at their dining room table at 3:00 am on the night of his high school graduation teaches them that they might not know what’s best for Kel after all.

So...yeah the talk the morning after that is filled with a lot of awkward pausing. Kel isn’t used to sharing his true feelings, and he isn’t used to exposing anything other than cheerful hope. Ultimately they come to an agreement. Kel can go with Aubrey, follow her and his heart on their crazy plan, but he has to spend the year before they leave working and earning and not just hanging around the house

That was Kel’s plan anyway, so he’s ecstatic. He calls Aubrey immediately after, and she comes over so they can plan things out together

That year before they leave is definitely not easy. They’re working multiple retail and menial labor jobs, spending 12-15 hours a day on their feet in steamy kitchens, being screamed at by rude customers, and delivering so. many. pizzas.

At some point in that year Aubrey and her mother have the inevitable fight that has been coming her whole life, and her mother kicks her out. Aubrey shows up in the middle of the night with her things next to her. Kel’s mother welcomes her inside and gets her a cup of tea. Kel wakes up and comes downstairs the next day to see his partner curled up asleep on the couch under a blanket his mother had just finished knitting

His mother doesn’t explain anything (”It’s her story dear not mine”) but after Aubrey comes to stay with them his parents warm to her quickly. Aubrey and Kel are allowed to share the room that Hero and he once shared, but they’re adamant that the beds stay on opposite sides

((He and Aubrey fit cramped but happy into his twin bed every night, but she always wakes up early to switch beds in order to be respectful to his parents wishes))

Soon enough its the afternoon before their journey is beginning (They decided to redeye to Sevilla). They have hostel confirmation numbers for a dozen different European countries, a thick binder of plans and itineraries, and a joint account that has a surprising amount of money in it.

Turns out working 15 hours a day, taking only your eight paid vacation days, and having all of your dates be creative free dates in the five hours a week you both have off together means that you are able to acquire quite the nest egg. Kel’s parents sit them down at the dining room table, and his father is shocked to see how this year has shaped Kel.

It’s a strange thing to see your son as an adult for the first time. It didn’t feel strange when it was Hero, he always expected it from Hero. Seeing it in Kel rocked him.

They drive the two young adults (calling them kids now feels...wrong) to the airport and make them promise to call and write daily.

There’s an undeniable energy and excitement as they board the plane. He and Aubrey breathe an audible sigh of relief. They shouldn’t, but they sleep on the plane. After a year of running, they’ve earned it

OKAY SO THAT WASN”T AT ALL WHAT YOU ASKED FOR....HERE HAVE DANCE LESSON HEADCANONS

Aubrey planned for everything, so she planned that they would need at least two days to recover when they finally got to Spain. The first two days are spent in a combo of sleeping and eating fantastic food and finally being able to spend a full night in bed together instea of sneaking unsuccessfully around Kel’s parents.

She splurged and got them a private room at their first hostel in Sevilla. It was more expensive, but ultimately so very very worth it.

But day three is when they start to explore. They finally venture off of the block around their hostel and began to deep dive into the tiny back paths of the city. They meet a nice handful of locals who invite them to breakfast the next morning (Kel’s spanish speaking skills are undeniably useful to them in this moment)

And that night...that night is the beginning of the wish fulfillment she’s waited for since she was five years old. A flamenco lesson that promises an authentic experience, real outfits, and a party for all involved at the end. Aubrey was frugal with accomodations, but she spared no expense when it came to the experiences. Especially this one.

Flamenco is traditionally a single dance with one woman, but she asked and Kel is allowed to come if he likes. The instructor in charge recognizes Aubrey from her call, and drags Kel over to where another man sits with a guitar. He and the man begin to converse in Spanish, and Kel seems to be rapidly making plans. He’s fine with only watching for tonight, this is her dream

Aubrey is thrust into a room with a bunch of other tourists, even a few from her own state, and a gaggle of women who work at the studio. They show her a row of gorgeous traditional dresses, an overwhelming rainbow of frills and explosions of color.

Aubrey has let her hair go back to it’s natural color by this point, and her long dark locks catch the eye of one of the instructors who pulls her over to a corner of the rack of dresses. The instructor winks at her and pulls out a dress. It’s perfect.

Kel is also having a fantastic time. He and the guitar player who’s name is Raphael are discussing guitar playing. Raphael wants to teach Kel to play himself so “He can play for his lady when she wants to dance for him again��

All conversation stops when Aubrey walks out.

The others are dolled up as well, but Kel only has eyes for his girl. Her dress is black, hugging to her waist and her body. As the ruffles of the dress begin on her arms and her legs, the dress goes from black to a striking bright red. Around her wrists and on her neck is bright gold jewlery, gleaming against her skin.

Aubrey’s dark hair is wrapped up in a bun with a series of pink to red carnations following the curve of her hair. Her lips are tinged with maroon lipstick.

Kel is left speechless. Aubrey asks him something and Kel just has to nod and try to catch his breath. The rest of the group giggle at their antics, and Aubrey rolls her eyes at him. She presses a kiss to his cheek, maroon imprint left in its wake, and then she is over with the other girls in front of the instructor.

Raphael begins to play at the instructors insistence

The dance lesson is fun. Even just watching Kel has fun. Aubrey normally has a hardness in her eyes, a tightness in her shoulders as if she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Within minutes of the instructors careful praise and guidance Aubrey is loose and even giggling. Kel hasn’t heard a sound like that from her since they were children.

At the end the group performs the dance all together to a raucuous applause form Kel, Raphael, and the instructor. Then they all go to the patio behind the studio which has been decked out in warm golden lanterns with a table of food prepared.

Raphael begins to play again and the others mingle close to the food. Aubrey takes Kels hand and they go to a separate corner of the dance floor. They don’t dance in any particular way, just holding one another and rocking to the melody. Her hair has begun to come out of it’s tight bun, but her eyes are bright with happiness and she can’t manage to stop smiling

That night under the glow of the lanterns is the night they first say they love each other. It was a given, they already knew it, but those words are saccharine sweet against their lips as Kel holds Aubrey close to him and they spin while the music plays.

#videogame-world traveling anon #asks #anon #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #i guess #omori au #world travel au #kelbrey #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori kels parents #This is cute #I love this sm

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catboy-lover-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Obey Me Romanian MC

idea inspired by @/harunayuuka2060 (too shy to tag them)

Nu ştiu ce inspirație supraomenească m-a lovit dar am început asta la 2 dimineața și am terminat-o la 6.30

Im sleep deprived bc I stayed up all night doing this, enjoy gagicile mele

[added translations]

(under the cut bc this bitch is long af)

Lucifer: Are you not enjoying your meal?

MC: This food isn't even good. Next time I'm bringing my bunica to make you guys sarmale best thing you ever tried 👩‍🍳👌😘 mwah

MC: I'm not gonna go out with Satan, Beel, Asmo or Belphie.

Asmo: Awww

Beel: :(

Belphie: What?!

Satan: Why?

MC: Why date a guy who's favorite color is not in romanian flag? 🤔🇷🇴

Asmo: But I thought you could-

MC: For the last time IM NOT A VAMPIRE I CAN'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE OR MAKE THEM FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

Levi: Ohhh!!!! So are you like familiar with Castlevania-

MC: We don't talk about that *cries in disappointed*

Solomon: What is this weird potion.

MC: *puts bottle of țuică (plum brandy) on the table*

MC: This is not a potion, but a solution to all of your problems gagica 💖

MC: *talking to Lucifer* Oh iubire (love), stop crying over Diavolo again. Why cry over guy who would wear vagabond everyday in my country?

MC: Tsch tsch tsch

Lucifer: What the fuck is Vagabond

MC: Only the worst of streetwear existent. Only f-boys use it

Lucifer: Fair enough

Beel: Why do you want to try out for the sports team?

MC: Because Steaua, my country's team, disappointed me 😔

MC: Mammon! Asmo! Let me show you guys a thing called ✨manele✨

(after the Belphie incident)

MC: Does anybody have a belt.... a belt so I can...no reason...papuci de casă (slippers) works too

MC: Hey Belphie! Did you enjoy your punishment? 😜

Belphie: My butt still hurts...

MC: Next time it's the lingură de lemn ♡ (wooden spoon)

*MC dancing to Braşoveanca*

Mammon: W-what's that???

Satan: Some sort of ritual I suppose

Asmo: *joining in* It's fun!

MC: Doi✌paşi🦵înainte➡️şi😱doi😩înapoi⬅️ (two steps forward two steps back)

MC: Who has summoned me?

Satan: Belphie isn't feeling well and the medicine didn't really do it's job.

MC: Everyone watch closely because I'm going to teach you guys a sacred ritual called ✨Frecție cu Oțet✨

Satan: You're just pouring vinegar on his wrist.

MC: Now here comes the fun part. *maggages his wrists*

Belphie: Someone please kill me this is unbearable

MC: Am I allowed to say Tatăl Nostru (Lord's prayer) or is that too....uhhh weird since yall are demons and stuff-

Barbatos: MC...

MC: I'm sorry but crossing myself after I finish a meal is implemented in my brain. It's in the default settings.

Barbatos: What happens if you don't cross yourself?

MC: Lingura de lemn (wooden spoon) *shivers*

Diavolo: Do you like my castle?

MC: Baby, Peleş puts you to shame.

MC: Also, too much current (swift). Close the damn windows

Lucifer, giving up on life: Oh not again...

MC: DA PĂ CIMPOI DA PĂ CIMPOI JOACĂ FETELE LA NOI 👉👈😳

MC: Real music here 😌

MC: There, there gacica (girlfriend). Don't cry. *pats him on the back*

Lucifer: Do you got any more țuică...

MC: That's the spirit!

MC: I know I technically didn't die, but can we please have a funeral??? There is this really tasty cake just for this special occasion called colivă. Beel is okay with it so- hey don't ignore me! wait guys this is important- wAIT!

Satan: I hate Lucifer because he is my father.

Belphie: I hate Lucifer because he sucks in general.

MC: I hate Lucifer because Favorite color is red which is COMMUNISM COLOUR 😡‼

Solomon: See?? MC likes my cooking!

MC: Piftie...Caltaboş...

MC: Solomon, you would make a very good romanian housewife. Say, have you ever considered getting a 701st wife...?

Beel: *munching happily on the food MC makes*

Lucifer: *getting a fucking break*

MC: *making grătar(barbeque) cu mici*

MC: Everybody loves 1 Mai!

MC: Beelphiiieee!!!! I have a spell for you 😊

Belphie: Please not the lingură de lemn-

MC: *boop on the nose* ✨du-te dracu✨ (go to hell)

Lucifer: How did you make everyone behave?

MC: *looking at the papuc de casă in hand*

MC: You either die a hero...or live enough to become the villain...

Lucifer: Interesting, can you teach me?

MC: The secret is to use your wrist-

MC, whispering: Psst! Mammon! How's the sarmale trading going?

Mammon: Its okay, but why can't you just give me the recipe?

MC: E din moşi strămoşi (it's from older generations) I can't give it to you

MC: Hey pisi, want a ride in my Dacia?

Simeon: ...what? :)

MC: Come on gagica(girlfriend)! We are going to visit my family they will love you!

MC: You can also bring Luke. Just uhhh don't let him drink from the "juicebox" ok? It's not- It's not juice in there

MC: But you can drink. I won't tell anyone.

Diavolo: MC you can't leave yet. Not even for a quick visit back home.

MC: Auzi, da du-te-n p- (well why don't you fuck yourself on my dic-)

MC: *sigh* Sometimes I wish Satan was wearing Vagabond instead of...whatever that is

Asmo: Ouch, but yeah I guess we are that desperate.

Satan: I'm never tutoring any of you again.

MC and Luke, just vibing honestly: ⬇️Intră-n👇apa🌊mării🐚şi🐋nu🐟te🙄teme😱ai😳să-nveți🤯să-noți🐠printre🤔sirene🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

(go in the sea's water and don't you be afraid you'll learn to swim among mermaids)

MC: No Asmo, I have a date to the ball he's right here *points at țuică bottle*

Belphie: *misbehaving*

MC: Vai, vai, vai. Sărumâna Belphie 😃 ( well, well, well good day Belphie)

MC: *grabs the papuc (slipper)*

MC: NO LUCIFER IT CAN NOT BE AN AN NOU FERICIT (happy new year) IF WE DO NOT DANCE THE HORĂ

MC and Luke, vibing yet again: POVEȘTI DIN FOLCLORUL MAGHIAR!!! (maghiar folklore stories!)

MC: Where is my țuică? :)

Everyone: *quiet*

MC: I won't get mad :)

MC:

MC: Foaie verse de trifoi~ *papuc reappears* Dați băi țuica înapoi (green leaf of clover, give the țuică back you fucker)

Everybody: *runs*

MC: Mândruțelor (girls), come back until I'll put this to good use

Levi: *exists*

MC: *in love with him bc his fav color is in the Romanian flag and not in the commie flag*

MC: Te las să te lingi cu mime în parcare la lidl (I'll let you french kiss me in the Lidl market parking lot)

MC: Lucifer you don't understand!

MC: Sandu Ciorbă cured my depression!

MC: Muie cretinii pământului (fuck y'all stupid asses) my țuică is back and I'm not sharing anymore

Asmo: We're doing hot girl shit tonight

MC: Ne curvim rău (we're hoeing)

MC: futu-ți cristelnița mătii (fuck your mother's font) Simeon you're the one that drank all my țuică

MC: I'll let it slide this once, if u take me for shaorma(shawarma) in Piața Victoriei (Victoria's market)

Solomon: Whoops, I accidentally messed up the sarmale recipe

MC: Aşadar războiu alesu l-ai (So you have chosen war)

Mammon: MC, how do you say "I hate you" in romanian?

MC: Dar eu sunt mândru că sunt twink. (I'm proud to be a twink)

Mammon, clueless: ok thanks

MC, to Belphie: I had such a rough day, please fute-mi una (fuck me over) and not the way I like

Mammon: What would be a quick way to make money?

MC: Gagica(girlfriend), listen. Culegător de sparanghel (asparagus picker) in Spain is your go-to.

Asmo: *blasting manele vechi (old manele).2006*

Asmo: Please love me!

MC: *already in wedding attire*

MC: Beel! Here, try this! Yeah yeah its completely fine!

MC: ...what do you mean it looks like Solomon's cooking?

MC: THIS IS PIFTIE AND YOU WILL LEARN TO APPRECIATE IT

MC: *dragging them all by the hand to therapy*

MC: Păi aşa-i hora pe la noi măi bade- (This is hora to us well my mans)

MC, talking to Lucifer: Măi omu lu dumnezeu îți fut una de nu te vezi (listen God's man I'll fuck you over that you'll not see again) if u lay a finger on my țuică again

MC: I don't care that you have daddy issues, this is MINE now thank you very much.

MC: Doamne cu ce ți-am greşit? (God, what have I done to you?)

MC: tanti Lilith, ia-mă cu tine gagicuțo milf ce ești (Miss Lilith, take me with you you milf girlfriend)

MC: Chiar și culesul de căpșuni din Spania era mai ok dacât (even strawberry picking in Spain is better than) Therapist Simulator hell edition

Diavolo: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu a ta mireasă? (Do you want me to be your wife?)

Simeon: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu Ileană Cosânzeană? ( Want me to be your fairy wife?)

Belphie: Every time I doze off they say this weird phrase...

MC: Dormeo(mattress company) ! Noapte bună! (good night!)

MC: What do you mean im not allowed to have a cross around my neck?

MC: My dead grandmother would kill me it's Sfântu Andrei for fucks sake

MC: The law is law we gotta put garlic and salt everywhere around the house

MC: This is what you get from taking my țuică away AGAIN

MC: I mean, at least i dont have to take the bacalaureat and face the woman-hating-Ion-Creangă-fucking-twink-looking-nightmare-inducing Eminescu so

MC: *drinks a Mona Spirt (rubbing alcohol) bottle in one go*

MC: that works wonders for me

#IM SLEEPY SO IM GOING TO SLEEP AT 7AM BYYYE #♡♡♡#romanian mc #romanian mc obey me #obey me #obey me swd #Diavolo e dilf nu ați auzit de la mine #romanian #romania

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maticide666 · 4 years ago

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my eurovision top 39 songs (finally)

anyway i finally got my top 39 completed. under a read more because it can get kinda long with the commentary i added klfdja;sflk (and by that i mean VERY long, maybe a wall of text if i have a lot to say about the song.)

none of this takes rehearsals into account.

basically, 39-37 i don't like, 36-35 are meh, 34-25 are decent, 24-18 are good, 17-12 i enjoy listening to a lot, 11-4 i love, and I would pay for votes for top 3 if i could.

39. Azerbaijan - Efendi - Mata Hari - Honestly, I kinda want to like this song. The instrumentation is nice, especially with the Azeri instruments. Efendi's vocals are ok during the verses. However, her vocals during the MA-MA-MA-MATA HARI part makes this song utterly unlistenable for me. It is just so distracting and ear-grating. Not great for my sensitive ears. And that is without taking anything else into account.

38. Estonia - Uku Suviste - The Lucky One - For some reason reminds me of a boring modern country song. Bland af. At least the melody of the chorus is nice.

37. Cyprus - Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Discount Lady Gaga at the best points of this song. Feels like three songs at once. Also, the lyrics seem like they just went all "What Spanish-sounding words sound spicy? Taco? Tamale? Mamacita?" As a Spanish speaker and as someone of Mexican descent who enjoys those foods, this annoys the living shit out of me. At least I can make El Diablo/Fallen Angel memes out of this. (Honestly, I don't mind the gratuitous Spanish with the words El Diablo.) Also, this song got real old real quick.

36. Slovenia - Ana Soklič - Amen - The gospel vibe is nice, but there is just too much Christianity in it for me to enjoy this song. Sorry, Ana.

35. Moldova - Natalia Gordienko - Sugar - Sounds like a sugary version of Siren Song by MARUV. Kinda boring, but enjoyable in the right circumstances.

34. Georgia - Tornike Kipiani - You - Good to listen to when mind feels blank. At first I kinda liked this song, but nowadays this song has lost its charm. This won't sound out of place alongside boring 70s slow classic rock songs.

33. Austria - Vincent Bueno - Amen - Not something I would listen to regularly, but still nice. For me, easily the biggest downgrade from 2020.

32. Greece - Stefania - Last Dance - Pleasant to listen to, not much else.

31. Portugal - The Black Mamba - Love Is On My Side - Good song, but not my cup of tea. Unfortunately, some great songs have to be near the bottom of my ranking.

30. Germany - Jendrik - I Don't Feel Hate - A fun song to listen to. The novelty wears off after a while. The feel good vibes and ukulele are nice.

29. Israel - Eden Alene - Set Me Free - the song release version was bland and boring, but the revamp. Now THAT is good stuff. The song doesn't seem so empty anymore. I miss the key change from the original, though.

28. Spain - Blas Cantó - Voy A Quedarme - A very emotional and beautiful song from Spain. Again, not usually my cup of tea. However, the melody somehow gives me a nostalgic vibe.

27. North Macedonia - Vasil - Here I Stand - DAMN Vasil has a lovely voice. Nice that he's showing it off here. Too slow of a song for me to enjoy regularly, though.

26. Albania - Anxhela Peristeri - Karma - I don't have much to say other than this song is nice.

25. Bulgaria - VICTORIA - Growing Up Is Getting Old - Pleasant to listen to, but depending on my mood I think this is a beautiful song but not my cup of tea or a complete snoozefest.

24. Serbia - Hurricane - Loco Loco - Fun song, but it feels like something is lacking, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

23. San Marino - Senhit - Adrenalina - Once the initial hype from Flo Rida being on the song died down, this became another typical Eurovision bop.

22. Sweden - Tusse - Voices - At first I thought the song was completely unremarkable and couldn't understand how this won Melodifestivalen. Nowadays it's a nice song to chill to. I gotta respect a perfect televote score from the national final.

21. Ireland - Lesley Roy - MAPS - nice.

20. Croatia - Albina - Tick Tock - Grew on me slightly. Shoutout for including a verse in Croatian.

19. Switzerland - Gjon's Tears - Tout l'Univers - Another grower for me. Doesn't hit as hard as his song from last year, but I dig it.

18. France - Barbara Pravi - Voilà - Lovely chanson right here. I wish it didn't take forever to pick up, though. I was about to completely give up on this song in the middle of my first listen. I'm glad I didn't.

17. Belgium - Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place - Classy. Not much else to say.

16. Ukraine - Go-A - Shum - I'd definitely go rave to this song. I kept finding this song hard to rank due to the white voice. I couldn't decide if I absolutely adored it or if I found it grating. Maybe I just wasn't feeling well when I first thought about it.

15. Lithuania - The Roop - Discoteque - Lots of fun, doesn't have the charm that On Fire had last year. I would dance to this song.

14. Poland - RAFAŁ - The Ride - I actually kinda like this song???? Even with Rafal's vocals??? I know he has political controversies, but I can't help but think this song is nice. A better, less controversial singer would benefit this song, though. I'm not counting the revamp just yet since it was released too recently.

13. Latvia - Samanta Tīna - The Moon Is Rising - This song gives me nostalgic mid to late 2000s hip hop vibes. The guitars in this song are lovely.

12. Romania - ROXEN - Amnesia - Definitely something that can put me in a trance if I'm in the right mood.

11. Czechia - Benny Cristo - omaga - Nice, catchy, I would dance to this.

10. Malta - Destiny - Je Me Casse - Damn, Destiny has a lovely voice! And the song itself is wonderful. I'm not a fan of the amount of Swedish talent being used instead of Maltese talent, but I really do enjoy listening to this.

9. Denmark - Fyr og Flamme - Øve Os På Hinanden - another really fun song! This really grew on me. Nowadays if I want to listen to a Eurovision song, this is one of the first songs I think of.

8. The Netherlands - Jeangu Macrooy - Birth of a New Age - I can vibe with this. You can hear the passion in this song. I wish I could let my body do the talking right now, but y'all can't see that with just a tumblr text post.

7. Russia - Manizha - Russian Woman - I was NOT expecting this to come out of Russia when it won the national final. I wasn't expecting to like this either. The message is great, the instrumental is great, everything about this is brilliant.

6. United Kingdom - James Newman - Embers - A funky song. I LOVE James's voice. Massive upgrade from last year in my opinion. I'm a sucker for brass in an upbeat song. Unfortunately, I have had the staging kinda spoiled and I am VERY skeptical about this coming out of bottom five. I'm done with the BBC.

5. Australia - Montaigne - Technicolour - There is a Lot happening in this song and I am all in for it. I'm kinda terrible at parsing lyrics, but it's a non-issue when I can follow Montaigne's voice and forget about the lyrics. Ironically enough, it's Montaigne's voice that also worries me this Eurovision season - mostly whether she was able to pull off her live on tape performance off.

4. Iceland - Daði og Gagnamagnið - 10 Years - I didn't think Daði could pull it off against this year, but he did it. I like this just a little more than Think About Things, which was my favorite song last year. I'm still a little gutted that this pandemic robbed him of a probable victory, but I've made peace with it. I still need to learn the dance moves, though.

3. Italy - Måneskin - Zitti E Buoni - FUCK YEAH A KICKASS ROCK SONG IN EUROVISION! This song gave me massive rock en español vibes on my fist listen, and honestly this is something I would bang my head to if I had the same body I did when I was 15.

2. Norway - TIX - Fallen Angel - I was not expecting to like this song much, let alone becoming THIS obsessed with TIX. In fact, he wasn't even on my radar for winning MGP. I listened to Ut Av Mørket for the first time and thought something like 'this is boring af, but at least it's in Norwegian'. And then he changed it to English, which I wasn't a fan of at first. And then one day the lyrics clicked - especially with my own struggles with mental illness. To this day this is one of only two Eurovision songs to actually make me cry. Even now he still isn't my MGP winner (that honor goes to JORN), but he has definitely won my heart.

1. Finland - Blind Channel - Dark Side - To say that this song kicks ass would be an understatement for me. This song has just the right mix of rock, pop, and even metal. Ever since I found out that this song would be in the national final, I knew that it would be my favorite this whole Eurovision season regardless of who won UMK. Yes, my jaw dropped when I saw the lead Blind Channel had in UMK. I literally cancelled my plans to watch the MGP final live because of these guys. I am not disappointed. Even Måneskin couldn't bring these guys down in my ranking. And while the lyrics might be a bit iffy, they did get me through rough times. I hope these guys are able to bring rock music back like they want to. But for now, I will give them my (useless tbh) douze points.

#eurovision #esc #this post took me two days #and even longer to actually rank everything #mostly because half the time i couldn't decide which song i liked more #so something gerbear's sorter couldn't help with #i'm tired rn #of course my top 3 is predictable

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allscalliepsds · 5 years ago

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RP GUIDE: TIPS FOR WRITING ITALIANS CHARACTERS!

So, from one Italian roleplayer, check this list for creating credible Italians fictional characters. I don’t know if you’re ever gonna read this post, but let’s try. Aaaand, if it works maybe one day I’ll do a list of italian faceclaims, or italian names and surnames. (Obviously, I’m not used to writing in english. Ignore my mistakes, lol)

• We have very different features. We’re not all tanned, with brown eyes and brown hair. My best friend is pale as hell and blonde like a freaking scandinavian. So we have lighter skin, darker skin, we’re tall, very short, redheads. And we have different cultures here! You can use asian faceclaims, black faceclaims, tunisian faceclaims... your character can have any kind of origin and still have the italian citienzship.

• Food is important. And by saying this I do not only mean that things like pineapple pizza or carbonara with pancetta are unacceptable! I mean that we EAT together. Most of Italians families have lunch together daily, same happens for dinner. Eating means spending time with family and friends. On sundays a lot of families reunite and have lunch with other relatives like grandparents or uncles, without even being on holiday time. We do not need Christmas or Easter to have lunch with relatives. Talking more about food: every place has its own speciliaties, so look for them when creating a character.

• Talking about food, WE DO NOT SHARE PIZZAAAA! Okay, maybe we do, sometimes, but it’s different. I’ve seen a lot of American tv shows or movies where they order just one pizza for four family members. Like, what?? Here in Italy most of the times we have one pizza per person. Because Italian pizza is obviously better and lighter, so you don’t get your belly full just by eating two slices unless you’re 5 y/o.

• We might be spending a lot of time complaining about our country and what doesn’t work, but in reality we are very proud and sometimes a lot patriotic. You know what really gets me super mad? Scrolling tik tok and seeing Americans that call themselves ITALIANS just because their grandma’s uncle was from Salento. No the hell no, that’s not how it works. You’re not Italian you cunt.

• We’re a little bit a cliché, I gotta give you that. Sometimes more than a little bit. When quarantine/lockdown started here in Italy it was sooo hard finding flour and baking powder at the supermarket. And it’s not just a Super Mario thing: we do actually say mamma mia! But we’re not all the same. Please do not consider always the same kind of relatives: conservative religious parents with that grandma that always cooks a lot of stuff and blablabla. Think out of the box!

• Talking about grandmas: if you wanna follow that cliché of the Italian grandma that cooks and makes you eat until you pass out, it’s fine. You can do this. One of my grandma is like this and even though we have lunch in like four people she’s still gonna cook for an entire army. But if you don’t wanna do that, then don’t. My other grandma does not know how to cook and so she doesn’t that much. It’s fine, no one’s gonna revoke your character’s Italian citizenship if you don’t stick to those basic clichés we’re tired of.

• Please, look for a map. Not every Italian lives by the sea, it isn’t always sunny and hot and you don’t always feel in the right mood for a gelato. The northern part of Italy is colder and there aren’t as much bathing areas. Even if your characters lives or is from Sicily ( which is where I’m from ), it isn’t sure that he’s gonna have the beach next to his house. I’m a lucky person, in jenuary from my balcony I can see the sea on my right and the vulcano Etna covered by snow on my left. But it depends, so choose a city and look for it.

• We have dialects. So, let me try to be clear. Italy is a country divided into 20 regions, okay? Sicily is a region of Italy, Lazio ( where Rome is, to be clear ) is another Italian region. The official language is obviously Italian. So since I’m from Sicily, with a girl from Lazio/Rome I’m gonna speak Italian. But, inside the regions, there are dialects. Since I’m sicilian my dialect is called siciliano, and it’s influenced from all the past invasions. Sicily was conquered by arabs, and arabs also conquered Spain which is why some words in siciliano are similar to spanish words. Even though we have dialects we can understand each other pretty well. Southern dialects are all pretty similar, for example. But I gotta be honest, I don’t understand a single words in northern dialects. If you wanna stick to that grandma cliché I mentioned before, then add the dialect to it. Grandparents speak dialects. Generally speaking, old people speak dialects way more than the younger ones. Unfortunately it’s a culture that is starting to disappear.

• Please, dress properly. You’re never gonna see a true Italian walk out of his own house in his pajamas and with slippers, that only happens in nightmares. We’re classy. And by saying this I do not mean that we dress Dolce&Gabbana and Gucci. We don’t. I mean, rich people do, they’re lucky enough. So you do not need to mention important and expensive brands. We’re not all rich. Or at least I’m not as I wish. Last thing: it’s VersacE, not Versaci.

• Italy is (unfortunately) a pretty religious country. You know, we have the Vatican here. The most common religion here is Christianity. Not everyone practise it, and not everyone goes at the Church every sunday.

• ROME AND MILAN AREN’T THE ONLY TWO ITALIAN CITIEESSS! I know, they’re the most known, Rome is beautiful and in Milan there’s the fashion week, I get that. But Italy is full of beautiful places. Maybe you don’t wanna choose unknown little towns with less then 3.000 habitants, but be original.

• There isn’t a large representation of Italy outside our country, so you might know very few of how we live here and what our habits are. Let me do just a small list of things:

- At 18 years old you are old enough to take your driving license, your car, and to drink. Obviously do not do everything together, lol. But you can buy alcool at 18 and go to the clubs.

- We kiss. If you’re my friend I’m gonna give you two kisses on the cheeks to say hi and to say goodbye. Even if you’re not my friend but you are with my friends, I’ll do that to be polite. And sometimes It can be pretty boring, but If I’m leaving a room with 12 people I (more or less) know I’m gonna kiss all of those 12 people.

- We have school from monday to saturday, mostly from 8 am to 13 pm. So we do not spend the afternoons at school like Americans do, and we do not have all those extracurricular activities and sports.

- We do not use snapchat anymore, while I know that it’s still a thing somewhere else. And for texting we mostly use Whatsapp and Telegram. Not iMessage because not everyone has an iPhone (they cost a little bit more, here), and neither we use Messanger that much.

- We do study a lot of art, history and literature. They’re not optional subjects. And we really praise our artistic patrimony. You can’t live here and study in Italy and then don’t know how to recognize a piece of art of DaVinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli or Caravaggio. If you’re Italian you know who Dante is and that he wrote The Divine Comedy.

- I don’t know how it is in the rest of the world, but when we go out (like, at night??) we have this thing of going downtown. So you can go to a restaurant with your friends for dinner or you can go out after dinner and just meet your friends at a square, grab a beer at the nearest bar and sit on a bench or on the stairs of something that faces that square and even stay there all night. It might sound strange, but that’s how it works and in towns where there are a lot of young people or university students those squares and those bars next to them are always full of people. Here’s an example.

#rph #rp guide #writing italian muses #writing help #writing advice #roleplay #roleplay helper #italian roleplay #italian rp guide #writing tipes #sorry for my english mistakes

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #past kamjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #kameron michaels #smut

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beautiful-basque-country · 4 years ago

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I read in The Guardian that the former king Juan Carlos is going into exile and his son, King Felipe, is doing things to distance himself from the scandalous financial things his father did years before. I'll have to read up more on this in Spanish news, but it looks like Felipe's trying to get rid of the corruption in the monarchy, which is a good thing. If you can comment, what thoughts do you have on this?

Kaixo, anon!

Thank you for giving us an excuse to rant about this issue!

The Spanish monarchy is an illegitimate one: Juan Carlos I’s grandpa, king Alfonso XIII, willingly gave his power to proto-fascist dictator Primo de Rivera in 1923, and fascist dictator Franco returned the favor by designating Juan Carlos as king of Spain in an effort to keep the fascist state going.

Juan Carlos I knowingly orchestrated 100% knew a coup attempt in 1981 - when democracy was still weak in Spain, just 6 years after Franco’s death - just to take control of the situation, heroically stop it, and be loved and accepted by Spanish people. It worked like a charm. People loved the brave king that stopped another dictatorship, people loved the king that was humble and fun, campechano they called him. Mass media secretly agreed to never gossip about the royal family and just published was what approved by the crown. Even non-monarchist people started saying what later became almost like a set phrase: I’m not a monarchist, but I’m a Juan Carlist.

Of course there were rumours on the street, but they were always told with a smile of approval: the king was said to love motorbikes and used to escape security to drive around and visit his mistress, oh, what a lad! That and that actress were said to have been his lovers, oh, he has such a good taste! He even told Chaves to shut up, you gotta love him! As you can see, faking a coup - or knowing it was coming and let it happen - and making yourself the superhero that saves the day works fine for your reputation, in case anyone has PR issues.

Oh but it wouldn’t last. First came the elephant-hunting in Botswana. Then, the presumed long-time lover receiving 65 millions from the king. Then the king withdrawing 100,000 euros a month from Spain to Switzerland, in the month of december, he moved the money the day before his traditional Christmas’ Eve message to his subjects where he talked about austerity and solidarity in harsh times.

Juan Carlos, who was a broke noble when he got the throne, has now an estimated fortune of 2 - 2.5 billion euros. Estimated, because nobody knows for sure nor how much he actually has, neither where that money came from. Well money, real estate, yachts, art, you name it.

Its funny that outside the Spanish borders the fact that this person has left the country is seen as Felipe attempting to distance himself from the corruption.

It’s not.

It’s not just Juan Carlos. It’s also the son-in-law, and the infanta who knew nothing about what his husband did. Or the son that knew nothing of what his father did, even though he has spent his whole life in the luxuries that his dad provided.

If Felipe was actually smart and had some bravery, he would take the irregular millions his father hides in Switzerland - the ones known by mass media, at least - and bring them to Spain, and use them to fight covid, or to fund a vaccine investigation. That’s the fake coup for Felipe right now, and not letting his father go to spend his billions outside Spain. That’s not distancing from corruption. That’s hiding it below the carpet.

Monarchy is hereditary, right? It’s good to inherit crowns, thrones and money, but inheriting responsibilities and corruption doesn’t come with the post? In our book, if the crown is hereditary, so are the king’s sins.

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howlingmedic · 4 years ago

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Coming Home: Chapter 5

Coming Home:

Previous | Next

Synopsis: what happens when the person who finally made their world make sense is taken from them? What happens when the people who were supposed find her can’t?

Relationship: Stucky x Angel!OFC

Warnings: angst, references to religion, references to torture, references to wounds, poorly explained technology, probably incorrect science, shifting POV because I’m the worst, my shit writing

A/N: This chapter is two parts. One part is like normal. The other is actually something I wrote a while ago in 1st person from Allie’s POV, and is what inspired this whole story. I tried to change it to 3rd person, and I hated it like that, so I switched it back and left it as is. It also used to be a standalone chapter, but I decided both chapters were too short, so now they’re one weird chapter.

Chapter Five: How they Got Here

“We gonna talk about it?” Bucky asked as they walked to the bikes they had acquired through their travels. Steve smirked. “Talk about what? It was just decorative,” he answered coyly despite knowing full well what Bucky wanted to talk about. The questioning looks had been impossible to miss while they got dressed. Honestly, Steve was surprised Bucky had held his tongue this long. “Steven Grant Rogers, you did not make a design alteration to your uniform based solely on aesthetics after a day like today, now spill,” Bucky huffed as he dumped his essentials in the saddle pocket. “I don’t want to serve the public anymore, at least not today. This is about us. The star… it didn’t seem right, not while I’m being selfish, so I took it off. Now, Let’s get our asses in gear. Jet should be touching down in an hour.” That firmly ended the discussion. It was that simple; Steve’s tone made that part clear, and his expression made it clear they could talk later when all three of them could be involved. Bucky shrugged and swung his leg over the bike. Steve decided in that moment that if they made it out of this, he was buying that man a motorcycle.

Five hours had elapsed since Tony’s phone call. Fury had called and informed them he had returned their status to active duty - Steve only slightly cringed at the comment - and that this was now an official mission. All requisite communication devices and extra weapons would be waiting for them on the jet. They also had been granted the full force of the Avengers - minus Banner, who would be standing by with Loki, Cho, Strange, and an entire med team on a separate jet. They were to meet the team just outside the tiny town they had been using as a base of operations in the southernmost part of Spain. They would then fly to Chad, which was where the heat signature had been. The rest was a rescue mission just like any other, except it wasn’t at all.

The tone on the jet was tense, and the air was electric. Nobody dared to speak a word for the first 10 minutes. Natasha gave Bucky a gentle squeeze on the upper arm, Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder and gave him a firm nod, and Sam gave them both one-armed hugs. Even during those silent exchanges, you could hear a pin drop. Once the jet had reached their cruising altitude, Natasha cleared her throat and stood. “Look, none of us like this situation. We all take this one personally because it is, but we’ve got a job to do. Everyone should have the plan shared to their tablets, I’ll pull it up on the big screen, and we can go over it one more time, but I think we’ve all committed it to memory by now.”

Steve lost track of what she said after that. He knew his part. It was the same as any other mission: use his shield, knock out or kill the bad guys, and don’t die. This time it just had the added task of rescuing the woman he loved. At some point, he stole a look at Bucky, who seemed equally zoned out. Everyone else’s faces were focused intently on their tablets. Natasha caught their gaze and gave them a weak smile; she always had a way of knowing. Once she finished talking, the jet fell silent again. Everyone seemed to be absorbing the gravity of the situation. Steve’s eyes remained fixed on the glowing blue form on the screen that had 45 Amps next to it. He wished they could pull the scan down, that he could forget that reading was far too low. Tony had told them it was one-tenth of what it usually was 6 hours ago. It was another hour of flying to Chad. Steve wasn’t sure if it had changed since Tony had first told them it was low. Nobody had commented on it, so he had to assume everything was staying stable, but somehow having a number tied to Tony’s comments made them more concrete.

Every once in awhile, he saw the form move. The first time it had given him hope. It had proved she was alive. After a little while, he couldn’t help himself, he studied every movement. Sometimes, it was just a shift. Like she was trying to get more comfortable. Others, he saw her jerk, and the number would drop. 45 down to 42, then it recovered to 44. 44 dropped to 39. Steve froze. Bucky looked up and sighed at the screen. Steve wasn’t sure if the sigh was from something Bucky was contending with internally or a reaction to the changing energy measurements. Steve quickly decided he couldn’t care right now, and his attention returned fully to the screen. When the number rose back to 42, Steve decided he preferred things when it stayed in the 40s.

Some of the panic seeped from his mind when the numbers on the screen stopped changing, and the eerily incandescent blob that represented Allie seemed to calm on the sceen. Steve glanced over at Bucky, and smiled softly at what he saw. Bucky’s eyes had fallen closed, but his breathing hadn’t steadied like he was sleeping. If Steve strained, he could hear him whispering. “C’mon, doll, just hang in there. We’re coming.” Then Steve’s eyes flicked back up to the screen eager to see if he might be able to watch Allie react. At first Steve’s heart soared: the number rose slightly to 43. Then, the world froze while the figure on the screen thrashed harder than Steve had seen yet before going inhumanly still. “Bucky! Stop!” Everyone’s eyes went wide, and they stared at Steve, who just gaped and stared at the screen: 43, 39, 35, 20, before coming to a halt at 17. “Fuck, Clint, fly faster!” Steve cried, his voice high and desperate.

The number on the screen didn’t look like it was going anywhere, which wasn’t the best outcome, but it was better than free falling. Bucky sagged in his seat, and Steve blew out a hard breath before he could focus on him. “I know what you were trying to do, babe,” Steve said under his breath so only Bucky could hear him.

“Doesn’t matter what I was tryin’ to do, Steve. Matters that I mighta almost fuckin’ killed her.”

“You had no way of knowing that would happen, so don’t you dare get all hard on yourself now. We don’t have time for that shit right now. We just gotta get in there, get her, get out. We’ve got at most three hours till she’s in the hands of the most capable people in the cosmos and back in our arms. She’s strong. She’ll pull through, pal,” Steve promised and hoped to anyone who was listening that it sounded more confident than he felt.

“Alright, alright, quit bein’ sappy before we go to work,” Bucky snarked. Steve knew it was nothing more than a brave face, but he knew better than to argue right now. Instead, he turned his attention back to the screen. 20 Amps. How many did she need to live?

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wasn’t supposed to be laying in a cell, filthy and chained up. I certainly wasn’t supposed to be drained of all my grace to the point where I couldn’t even hide my wings in a pocket dimension anymore. No, it wasn’t supposed to have gone like this at all.

I wasn’t even sure how long I had been gone. Over two weeks, but beyond that, I had no idea. Three weeks? Months? I was reasonably confident it hadn’t reached the point of being missing for years, but it was possible. Without knowing how long I had been unconscious, I couldn’t be sure of anything. Hell, maybe I was dead and in an angel’s version of Hell. Reports of The Empty were sketchy at best, so it was all theoretically possible at this point.

There was a whisper of Bucky’s voice in my head again. It was just barely audible, but he was begging me to hold on, promising me he was going to bring me home. I twisted and writhed against the chains again, felt the edges of the cuffs dig deep into the cuts on my wrists, ankles, and the joints of my wings. I screamed again, and my voice came out raw and broken, and the scream left me coughing and gagging with no moisture left to soothe my irritated throat. To spare what little grace I had left and try to heal it was to risk dying - actually dying… or dying in whatever hellish delusion I was stuck in.

“How the fuck had it gone this wrong? How the fuck did they overpower us, and how did they know about angel cuffs? We had destroyed them all, destroyed any trace of them, and yet here they were,” My brain cycled through the usual questions that consumed my thoughts when I was coherent. Bucky’s voice crying, pleading with me not to let go, cut through the drone of my reflection once more. I ripped against the chains harder in hopes that maybe this time I could break them. I felt my shoulder pop out of its socket, and I tried to scream again, but no sound would come out. I had lost my last asset, my one way to punish my captors. At least my screams made me a nuisance, it made me unpleasant to be around, but now I had nothing. No way to resist them, no way to fight back.

And as if being trapped here wasn’t enough of a punishment, my own brain had finally turned against me. I was hearing my lovers’ voices calling out to me when I knew the cuffs binding me would block any prayers. The only conclusion I could come to as I slipped unconscious again and relived the moments that landed me here one more time was that I had to have lost my mind and begun hallucinating.

It started like any other day of clearing out some cell trying to carry out Thanos’ mission - there had been a surprising number since his defeat and the reversal of the snap. Identify, negotiate, fail to reach an agreement, arrest, clear the base, and destroy it while agents interrogate each member of the cell.

That’s where it had gone wrong. There had been more of them - enhanced members - hiding in a room below the floorboards, and they had ambushed us. Someone strong, stronger than any natural human, had clamped the cuffs tights over my wrists. The sudden lack of grace flowing through me had dropped me to my knees with a shriek, but the others couldn’t come back. They were evenly matched with their combatants. This crew had studied each of us meticulously. They knew what they were up against, and they knew the best way to get to three of the best hand to hand fighters in the world was to take one of them out of the equation and use that to distract the other two. I happened to be the one with a kryptonite.

Whatever had happened next was a mystery. I had come-to in a damp, windowless, and quite possibly subterranean cell somewhere in the Saharan Desert. Food had been chucked my direction once every so often. If it was daily, I had spent at least 14 days stuck in this hell hole hoping someone could find me, and that hope was the last thing I had binding me to any semblance of sanity, but that seemed to have slipped away.

Footsteps. That was the first thought I could form when I came to again. They were drawing closer, and I muffled a scream as I pulled myself into a ball. Maybe if I pretended to still be unconscious they would spare me for a day.

#stucky x reader #Stucky x Angel!reader #Stucky x Angel!OFC #Steve x Angel!reader #Steve x Angel #Steve x OFC #Steve x Angel!OFC #Bucky x reader #Bucky x Angel!Reader #Bucky x Angel #Bucky x OFC #Bucky x Angel!OFC #Angst #Hurt and Comfort #My Writing #Coming Home #Coming Home: Chapter 5

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cesabutterflywrites · 5 years ago

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Meet Me at Stenvold’s

Word Count: 2020

Warnings: (Deceit’s name in this is Derrin), trouble breathing, feelings of anxiety, ask me if I missed anything

I was walking down a cobblestone street at night. It was raining, but I couldn’t feel the wetness on my skin. I felt the cold, though. I felt the shivering as I stumbled towards the small building ahead of me labeled as an Inn. I willed my knees to keep going forward. My feet felt as if they had been walking for miles. For all I knew, maybe they had.

I made my way into the Inn, with various smells filling my nose. Cooking meat, beer, sweat, hay, and other mixtures of delicious and deplorable. It wasn’t too crowded, thank heavens, so I went to sit at one of the tables in the corner by the fireplace. I took my gloves off to hold my hands closer to the orange flames. It was as if the warmth was spreading up my bones. I sighed in relief, glancing behind me to take in my surroundings.

I didn’t get very far in my observation before one of the staff came up to greet me. He was a tall, lanky lad with a tan so deep I may have believed he was from one of the southern countries, like Spain or Portugal. He had eyes so dark they resembled pieces of charcoal in the dim lighting of the room, pairing excellently with the warmth of the fire. He had pink lips that gave a different meaning to the word ‘soft’. His hair was unruly, naturally a result of handling the many duties of an Innkeeper. He was wearing a simple outfit, brown shirt with a buckle and black pants. However he made a simple lower class outfit seem like something the King would wear. I felt an unfamiliar feeling well up in my chest. I heard what could only be the tantalizing whispers of Aphrodite plaguing my thoughts.

I took my hands from the fire to turn and face him better. He held a pad of paper in his hands with a pencil. “Welcome to the Stenvold Inn, sir. We have a few rooms available to rent, and fresh meals for purchase. Would you like to order anything?”

My mouth went dry with words. I opened my mouth to reply, “Yes, I would like-”

Roman awoke with a start to his alarm, nearly falling out of bed as he rolled over. His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and he reeked of the sweat drenching his skin. He took a moment to steady himself and his breathing. He realized that his dream was more than a dream, it was a memory of a past he had been searching for clues in.

He felt the details slipping away, so he reached for his memory journal on his nightstand to scribble down messy notes in his uncoordinated, messy scrawl. Something was better than nothing when trying to remember a past life. He wrote what little he recalled until his fingers hurt and his memory dried up. He stared at the page, wondering why it was so blurry until he picked his glasses up from his nightstand. They did not make the writing any clearer.

He sighed, hoping that maybe later he could decipher the memory. Definitely at least after having some morning tea. He willed himself to leave his warm bed to get ready for the day. He looked into his closet, humming as he tried to decide what to wear. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt that today was important. It was like the air around him was thick with anticipation. Could his dreamt memory be a sign?

He shook his head to rid himself of that train of thought as he grabbed a red shirt and dressed hurriedly. He was losing time and he wanted to savor his morning tea.

He entered the kitchen to see his roommate frying up some eggs on the stove.

“Good morning, roomie. Sleep well?” Patton asked.

Roman let out a yawn and stretched. .”Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Ooo, what does that mean?” Patton looked over his shoulder toward his friend with a curiously raised eyebrow.

Roman shrugged as he opened the cupboard to reach for a packet of his Green Tea with Lemon blend. He wasn’t very open about his memories of past lives. He felt it was a private part of his soul-one of the few secrets he could keep between him and whoever his soulmate was.

“Nothing, Pat, just still a bit groggy,” he told the man handing him a plate of fried eggs on toast.

Patton nodded, understanding. He didn’t push the subject, instead choosing to change topics, “Logan wants to check out the new bookstore over by the campus. Wanna join us?”

Roman thought about what he wanted to answer with as he chewed his food. “I have three classes today, and midterms are a few weeks away. Plus the CAP Club meeting was pushed to Thursday, and I want to finish my project before everyone else.”

“Come on, Roman, you haven’t been out with us in forever,” Patton dragged out the final syllable in a whine. “It’ll be fun to have a change of pace, you know? Plus I miss hanging out with you outside the house.”

Roman leaned his head back and let out a dramatic sigh. “Well I guess I have to give in to the pressure.”

“Yay!” Patton cheered as Roman finished up his breakfast.

“Thanks for the meal, Padre, but I gotta go. See you after classes.”

“Bye, Roman! See you later,” Patton waved goodbye.

---

Roman felt himself being more antsy as he went through the day. He felt like he couldn’t stop vibrating as he met up with Logan and Patton outside their usual coffeeshop. They walked down the block and it took everything he had not to start skipping. He ignored Patton’s puns and Logan’s rambling. He felt a jolt of deja vu as they came up to the sign outside the shop.

Stenvold’s Books

Roman remembered a portion of his journal entry, and he swore he heard the ***‘Welcome to Stenvold Inn’ ***ringing through his ears. He rushed ahead of his friends and paused to look around the store from the entrance. He started to remember old feelings. Warmth, wet skin despite the dry room, curiosity. He ignored Patton’s calls as he roamed up and down the aisles looking for…

Who was he looking for?

He paused, letting Patton catch up with Logan close behind, somewhat out of breath. Patton placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Hey, Roman, whatcha roamin’ around for?”

“Now doesn’t seem to be the time for puns, Patton,” Logan gasped out. Patton abandoned Roman to reach in his bag for Logan’s inhaler.

Roman looked back at his friends, concern was decorating his face for Logan’s well being. “I’m sorry, Logan, are you okay?”

Logan held up a finger as he took in a puff of his ProAir. Roman nodded and watched the adoration on Patton’s face. Patton and Logan had such a great bond. They had met just a year before. Roman remembered Patton dragging the nerd into their living room one day shouting from the top of his lungs “I FOUND MY SOULMATE AND HE’S CUTE!”

As Logan’s lungs cleared, Roman felt his fill. His chest felt like an elephant was sitting on top of him. He grabbed at his heart, he looked at his friends in alarm, “I’m drowning,” he choked out.

“In what, your ego?” Logan asked sarcastically. Patton slapped his arm softly in admonishment before coming up to Roman.

“You feel like you gotta move?” Roman just nodded. “You feel like if you don’t stop moving you’re going to drown?”

Roman kept gasping as he nodded more enthusiastically, begging for Patton to get to the point. Patton squealed then hugged him before pulling back and screaming, “Go find them, Roman!”

Roman tilted his head in confusion before Logan had a smile form on his usually stoic face. Understanding built its way in his mind. He turned from the two soulmates who found each other and went on a search for his own.

He searched through the shelves. Looking for a face to recognize. How would he know? As he combed the aisles more there was a face forming. A voice entering his ears he had never heard in this life. His heart beat in time to the pop song on the speakers in the shop as he continued his search. He felt only half present; split between the past and present.

Fear found its home in his eyes as he got to the front of the store. Patton and Logan looked at him with worry. Where were they? Where was his soulmate?

He let Patton hug him as he cried. The face he was looking for was so clear in his mind. The charcoal eyes. The soft pink lips. The way his face half glowed in the firelight of the inn. The Stenvold Inn. He was-He was a worker there. He had come up for Roman’s order in their previous life. Maybe that was the sign. Roman pulled away from his friend to go to the checkout counter.

“Welcome to Stenvold’s Books, find everything okay?” the employee asked with a bored tone. He was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading a book. He was reading Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. His brunette hair was combed aside, covering one of his eyes. He didn’t seem to be in as much distress as Roman.

Roman hesitated, but he took the chance anyway. “This may seem to be a random question-” the other man stood up, tossing his book aside.

Roman smiled in disbelief. Perhaps he was in more distress than he seemed on the outside.

“You?!” they both cried at once.

Roman stood in place until his soulmate came up to him from his post. They stared in disbelief. Multiple lifetimes of love stood sturdy in between them yet they still remained strangers. Roman heard Patton sniffling behind him, and it was enough to remember how to speak.

“I’m Roman this time,” he whispered. He was looking down into the abyss of the dark eyes. Six lifetimes and he still swooned. How could he have forgotten those eyes?

“I’m Derrin,” that hypnotic voice. Smooth as the finest scotch. Everything about the small man in front of him screamed sweet smoke. Roman recalled tasting dark chocolate, travelling deserts, huddling while travelling through the rain, and so many more memories.

Roman’s tears betrayed him by falling down his face. “How could I have forgotten who we were before?”

Derrin laughed. So familiar and comforting while also being tantalizing and new. It was bright. Roman started crying in relief. He was finally able to breathe.

“So are we still doing the whole, ‘get to know each other’ thing again or are you going to stop crying and kiss me, darling?” Derrin asked, mischief in his eyes.

Roman held no hesitance as he scooped the small man up and kissed the soft pink lips of his dreams. The body in his arms felt like coming home to a familiar teddy bear. It felt like exploring a new section of a jungle. It felt like sitting down at the dinner table to your favorite meal. It felt like seeing fireworks for the first time.

They broke apart at Logan’s snide remark of, “They have to be able to breathe at some point.”

Roman sighed dramatically, “Excuse me for being so rude, these are my friends. Well, one is a friend and the other is just a stray he found on the street who also happens to be his soulmate.”

Logan rolled his eyes, knowing Roman’s remarks weren’t in malice.

Derrin still had some hours left on his shift, so they promised to meet at the coffee shop down the street. Roman was about to walk away when the shorter man pulled him in by his collar for another kiss. “Don’t disappear on me for too long, darling. I don’t want to wait a whole other lifetime for you.”

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist for any ship!

#roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #roceit fanfic #romantic roceit #ask to tag #Mama Cesa writes

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scorbleeo · 5 years ago

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Élite Season 3 | TV Show Review

Watch Élite Season 3 trailer here.

When three working-class teenagers begin attending an exclusive private school in Spain, the clash between them and the wealthy students leads to murder.

Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7134908/

With the shocking revelation and the breaking tension between students in light of the exposed culprit behind Marina's murder, only one question remains. Will there be another incoming tragedy at Las Encinas? yes. Find out who is responsible for Polo's death?

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elite_(TV_series)

I’m in Love with This Show!

The first season seemed so far away now that we are actually on the third season. Reminiscing the past (barely two to three years ago), I did not expect to fall completely in love with everything Élite. Despite not adoring the entire cast initially, I’ve grown to love the faces of Élite. And not surprisingly, I absolutely love the way the show takes its time to build up to the mystery that was first slammed into our faces in the first episode, every single season. That right there, is originality in terms of structuring a TV show. Kudos to the team who created Élite and made it possible.

Now, let’s get on with the review of Élite Season 3. Truth to be told, by the end of Élite Season 2, I utterly hated Polo. I remembered falling head over heels for Polo’s (Álvaro Rico) looks in the first season but was downright disappointed with how his story arc ended up. I was on the side where we hated Polo and thought he deserved death; like when he laid down Marina’s sentence in the first season. It turns out, this show is extremely capable in twisting plots and character arcs to the point where I hated him in one episode, pitied him in the next and got my heart broken during his last breath. I do realise now that from the very second he struck that trophy on Marina’s head (inadvertently causing her death), the choices he seemingly made were not choices of his own deciding. As powerful as Polo is–in terms of wealth–he is one of those who, unfortunately, gets manipulated easily. Said manipulation need not be bad but he would always be easily manipulated nonetheless.

Just like back in season 2 when I finally understood Carla’s predicament, I finally understood why was Polo the way he was. After all, not everybody gets their character development in the very first season like Guzmán and Ander did. Although, I gotta add, Guzmán’s character took a pleasant turn in this season. I really enjoyed watching his scenes. As for Samuel, he’s a slightly different story there.

When I first found out who murdered Polo, I was seriously confused. I did not know why and how. Honestly speaking, that person was the last person I would ever suspect. However, as I watched on, I understood why and it was at that second right after he was stabbed that I truly forgave Polo for all that he did in season 2. The fact that he understood where his murderer was coming from, his “I know”–that reassurance, at that very moment, I saw the genuine Polo. The entire combination, strength and vulnerability, vindictiveness and kindness, and his achilles heel: his undying loyalty. The one who scolded his mothers into making sure they kept the scholarship going. The one who saved Carla from going a step further into a dangerous obsession. Sadly...Polo actually deserved better. He was only in so much trouble because of Carla’s father.

Seriously, the parents are the villains in Élite. All except Nadia and Omar’s parents, and Ander’s mother. Lu and Valerio’s father who simply ditched them because he was not good enough of a father to teach them the right values. Guzmán’s parents who really only care about face. Rebeka’s mother who’s constantly trying to pull her into the illegal business. Samuel’s mother who seemed to care about Nano more than Samuel. Carla’s materialistic parents. And Polo’s one-minded mothers...

There, I’ve finally said it, the parents are the roots of so many problems among these children.

I am very much aware that this review seemed to be very character-centric, and seemed to look more like a discussion rather than a TV show review. I don’t know about the rest but when I watch this TV show, it’s not for the plot but the characters. Their growth, their struggles, their choices, their actions. Hence, my character-centric review. I have so much more to say about the other people but as I begun writing this review, I realised I really only wanted to discuss Polo. The rest...maybe someday I will talk about it on Twitter, but they need not be here.

I’ve heard rumours that although seasons 4 and 5 are already in the talks, the main cast will not be returning for them. With the end of Élite Season 3 the way it is, I can see how the main cast will not be returning. However, is Élite really Élite without the main cast? Let me bring you back to a paragraph ago when I just said (in my opinion) this is a show heavy on character arcs, and not storylines. I am hoping for someone crucial to the team behind Élite to come across my review or at least just this last bit. We need them. I can name what we need in each of them but I know we needing them is impactful enough. So, please. Don’t disappoint.

Rating: ★★★★★

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somedayonbroadway · 5 years ago

Text

Hong Kong Sloth

Buckle up! This is a long one!

For the BMW AU Masterline, click here!

“Hey, Kloppman, what’s up?

“Mr. Kelly, I just thought you should know that the Higgins boy missed his History test this morning.”

“He what?” A few people turned to look at Mr. Kelly as they filed into his classroom. Jack hadn’t mean to hiss so harshly.

But the kid knew better than that.

“Oh! That’s my fault!” Kelly leaned around his boss to find Albert rushing towards them from his usual seat. “My fault!” he repeated, clearly stalling, trying to remember what he was told to say. Jack knew Tony better than that. “I was supposed to tell you, Race had a severe case of... uh...” DaSilva put his hands on his hips as he paused, deep in thought.

Jack crossed his arms and stepped closer to him, nodding at him to continue.

Albert put a hand on Kloppman’s shoulder. “Help me out here...” he asked.

Kloppman just squinted at him. “Sloth?” he asked, knowing the boy wouldn’t come up with anything.

Albert nodded and laughed in agreement of something he clearly was not getting. “Yeah! Hong Kong Sloth!” he stated with enthusiasm.

Jack was less than amused. He shook his head. “Oh, that boy... Mr. Kloppman?” he asked.

The man already knew what he was going to say. So he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. Kelly nodded and grabbed his keys off of his desk, walking out of the room fast as he headed towards his apartment.

Kloppman looked down at his student and neighbor. And he sighed. “Not your best work, Mr. DaSilva...”

Albert could only shrug before he slid back into his seat.

—

Jack stormed into his own apartment, not even bothering to close the door when he found a teenager, lounging on his couch, still clad up in his pajamas, laying under a blanket. “Higgins!” he called, startling the boy a bit. “What the hell are ya doin’?”

Race smiled up at him. “Hey, Jack!” he tried to playoff, a cheesy smile melting onto his face as Jack placed his hands on his hips.

“You missed a history test, Tony,” the teacher scolded.

The boy’s face genuinely light up at that. “Oh, that was today? Boy, that worked out,” he almost joked. Jack knew he was thankful for it though. And it worried him.

“This is the third time you’ve skipped this week, you know I’m all for a break every now and then, but this is gettin’ outta hand!” Still the boy didn’t move. The smile fell a bit off of his face and Jack knew he needed to talk to someone. “Tony... I give up, kid... I’m here, n’ I’m tryin’, but... I got too much goin’ on ta figure you all out,” he sighed, seeing a spark of guilt shine in the boys eyes. He hadn’t meant it like that. But all he could do was sigh and shake his head. “Look, tomorrow morning, you’re seein’ a guidance counselor,” he decided, moving to sit at the arm of the couch that student occupied.

The boy looked up at his temporary guardian and hissed. “I don’t think so, Jack. My people are celebrating a very important holiday tomorrow.”

The small smirk that slid onto Jack’s face couldn’t be helped. This boy knew how to make him laugh, that’s for sure. “Yeah? And what people would that be?”

The look on Race’s face fell as he thought for a moment before shrugging. “Well... we’re stayin’ home tomorrow ta come up with a name!” he decided.

Jack rolled his eyes. He ruffled the boys hair and shook his head as he stood. “You have three minutes. Get dressed n’ meet me downstairs.”

Race groaned.

Jack walked back out the door, only turning back as he remembered, “History test! At lunch! Up n’ at ‘em!”

Again, Race only groaned.

—

“Hong Kong Sloth?” Race asked his best friend outside the counselor’s office.

Albert shrugged. “Kloppman came up with Sloth. But I added the Hong Kong part.”

Rolling his eyes, Race fell back into the seat beside his friend. “Kelly didn’t even wanna talk about it. He just said ‘Higgins, tomorrow your seein’ the new guidance counselor,’” he mimicked, taking his best shot at Jack’s New York accent which was much heavier than his own.

With a small laugh, Albert wrapped an arm around his best friend. “Maybe it won’t be so bad... I mean, ya don’t even really gotta listen. All ya gotta do is sit there for n’ hour,” he stated, trying his best to cheer his friend up.

“Yeah, I guess...” Race sighed, though he wasn’t quite convince.

“Antonio Higgins?” The boys stood and walked away, turning to his best friend and reaching for him dramatically. Albert did the same back. But then Race turned around and went solemn again.

Albert laughed.

—

“So, Antonio, tell me what your last guidance counselor was like?” the kind looking woman asked.

Race shrugged. “This is my first time,” he admitted.

The young, admittedly attractive woman grinned. “Really?! Mine too!” She brought her hands over her mouth after that and blushed. “Whoops... I shouldn’t have said that out loud...” she giggled.

The boy smiled at that. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he stated, leaning back in his chair.

The counselor smiled and looked back down at the file in front of her. “Okay, according to your file...” she paused when she opened it, her face dropping. “Wow...” she breathed, not quite sure how to continue.

Letting out a small snort, Race shook his head. “Lemme save ya some time... you can just skip ta the part where ya tell me ‘education is the key to a happy and successful life’,” he said, giving her a small shrug, knowing where this conversation would inevitably lead.

“Is that what I’m supposed to say?” the woman asked, looking back up at him, her kind smile working it’s way back onto her face.

“Everyone else does,” the kid admitted.

Smiling at the young boy, the woman cocked her head a bit at him. “You know, Antonio, growing up, all my parents every talked about were the three M’s: Money, Marriage and Mortgage,” she explained, shaking her head at the memories and looking back down at her desk.

But Race laughed. “My dad always talked about the three B’s,” he remembered, smiling as it all came back. “Babes, bucks and brewskies,” he recited, his voice suddenly gruff and harsh, more like his old man’s.

“Your dad sounds colorful,” the counselor laughed.

The boy shrugged. “Yeah... at the trailer park... he used ta say ‘One man’s septic tank is another man’s oasis’,” once again trying to mimic his papa’s voice.

Something in him ached.

He ignored it.

“I never knew what he meant...”

“Can I take a shot?” the woman asked. Race leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, like Jack did when they were having a serious talk, as he nodded. “I think he meant what’s good for one person doesn’t hold for everyone,” she explained.

Race squinted. He supposed that made sense. “Huh... So like... maybe college ain’t where I’s supposed ta go?”

The woman stood and rounded her desk, sitting on its edge and crossing her legs. “Ya know, I didn’t want to go to college when I first graduated. I took a year off to travel and see the world and... figure out who I was...” she said. “I went to Europe, even live in Spain for a few months. I bet I know more about bull fighting than any woman you’ll ever meet.” She sounded proud of that.

But the boy let out a small chuckle. “You don’t know my aunt Debbie,” he replied.

“Look, the point is,” the woman continued through a laugh. “I did end up in college. I just had to find myself first...”

—

Race smiled when he saw his best friend practically asleep at their favorite booth in their favorite restaurant. He rushed over and slid into the seat across from him.

Albert woke with a start, only lifting his head long enough to catch sight of the other boy before laying it back down. “There a reason ya made me get up at five in the mornin’?”

“I’m takin’ off, Al...” Race whispered. “I just... I wanted ta say goodbye...”

Albert lazily raised a hand and waved. “Okay... goodbye,” he said, almost falling back asleep.

His friend laughed. “I’m serious. I’m leavin’ town,” he said.

So Albert lifted his head again and rubbed at his tired eyes. “Racer, I know what this is... t’day’s Miss Birnnaum’s biology test. N’ seein’ as you’ve never met Miss Birnbaum, you’re ‘takin’ off’,” he quoted, knowing his friend better than that.

At least, he thought so.

“It’s not about school, Al! It’s about me!” There was a big grin on the boy’s face. Albert was beginning to get worried. “I can’t be happy in school till I’m happy with myself. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my whole life,” he stated confidently. But then he leaned across the table. “Do you got a few bucks?”

Rolling his eyes, Albert groaned. “No! Race, what about Kelly?”

“He doesn’t know, n’ I don’t want him ta find out. He’ll try n’ stop me,” Race sighed. “Look, this... this is what my dad does. It’s what I have ta do... I’ll come back... when I’m ready—“

“You’re not ready for this, Tones!”

“Albert, I’ve thought all this through. Traveling is in my blood. I’ll be alright...” he promised, standing back to his feet and adjusting the backpack strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see ya soon, okay?”

The blond didn’t give his friend a chance to respond before he was standing to his feet and heading towards the exit. Albert didn’t have the slightest clue how to stop him.

—

The red headed boy rushed through the halls, betting that if people didn’t want to get rundown, they’d get out of his way. He found his path to Kelly’s classroom and found him adjusting the glasses on his face as he turned through a few pages of their textbook and wrote a few things up on the board. “Mr. Kelly! We gotta talk! It’s about Race!”

Kelly sighed and turned to him for only a moment before focusing back on his task. “Let me guess, today he’s got African Sloth,” he stated offhandedly.

In other circumstances, Albert would’ve laughed at that.

But not today.

“No! He took off!” he said. “I’m not supposed ta tell you, but I gotta... he took off...”

Jack paused for a moment, praying that what the kid was saying was some kind of joke. But there was no punchline. So he took the glasses off of his face and tossed the book down onto his desk. “What are you talkin’ about? Where did he go?” he asked, worry radiating off of him in a second.

“I dunno... he had that meeting with the guidance counselor and the next thing I knew, he was takin’ off,” Albert explained, shrugging and noting the look in his teacher’s eyes. It was the same one his own father got whenever him or Henry did something that could get them hurt.

Kelly nodded, biting his lip and rounding his desk. “DaSilva... thank you... you did the right thing,” he stated as he walked with purpose out of the room and towards the counselor’s office.

“Yeah,” Albert rolled his eyes. “I’m cursed...”

Jack didn’t hear him.

He only stopped when he saw a kind young woman exiting the office. One he hadn’t seen before. “You! You’re the new guidance counselor?”

She smiled at him. “Yes, I am,” she confirmed.

“I sent Tony Higgins to you yesterday—“

“Oh, you’re James Kelly!” she realized.

Jack tried not to flinch at the use of his full name. He nodded. “Yeah, he ran away. Do you have any idea where he might a’ gone?”

“He ran away?” the woman repeated.

She was starting to get on Jack’s nerves. “Yes! What did you two talk about? I need ta make some sense a’ what happened between yesterday n’ this mornin’.”

The woman jumped a bit at the tone but shrugged. “Well, we talked about family and college and finding yourself and... oh...”

“What?”

Looking up at him, the counselor admitted it. “I told him about my year off in Europe.”

If Jack wasn’t inside of this school he would’ve given this woman a piece of his mind. “You said that to a fourteen year old boy who already thinks that stability is the last thing he needs? What kind of guidance is that?” he asked.

Travel was the last thing Race needed, let alone by himself. Jack knew he wasn’t the greatest example of a stable environment. He’d never had one himself growing up. He knew what running away entailed. He didn’t want that for the kid.

But the woman stood up straighter. “Hey! I’m just the guidance counselor! He spent an hour with me. He’s been living with you for five months. Why do you think he ran away?” she challenged.

Jack scowled at her but sighed, knowing she had a point.

But it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was finding Race.

—

Jack rushed through the doors of the closest bus station. He looked around almost frantically before practically melting in relief at the sight of the boy sitting against the wall, a piece of paper and pencil propped up in his lap.

He calmed himself before slowly making his way towards the kid. “Higgins... thank God...” he breathed as he stood above the child, catching his breath.

The boy jumped a little, looking up. “Jack... h-how’d ya find me?”

Jack scoffed. “Easy. Once I found out where you were goin’, I figured Racetrack Higgins, Europe, Bus,” he smiled, squatting down in front of the kid who just smirked.

The boy pulled his ticket out of his pocket. “I’m goin’, Jack. Next stop, Paris!”

“Paris, Texas,” Jack corrected turning the thing to show his student.

The boy’s smile fell. But he shrugged. “Hey... it’s a start...” he figured.

Jack sighed. “Look, kid... I dunno what that counselor told you... but runnin’ away is not the answer,” he reasoned, placing a hand on the kid’s knee.

“I ain’t runnin’ away! I’m goin’ someplace! Doin’ somethin’ with my life—“

“And if you’re so sure that’s what you’re ready for, why didn’t ya come n’ talk ta me about it?” Jack asked, hurt. But he tried to hide it.

The boy’s gaze fell back down to his notebook. “Ya got your own stuff goin’ on...”

“That don’t mean I don’t care what’s happenin’ with you,” the man countered, moving to sit beside the boy against the filthy wall. He looked down at the page and found that Race was sketching. It was a decently good outline of a horse. It actually looked... almost real.

“I know you care... I know that we’re like... buddies ‘r whatever—“

“Racer, it’s more than that... yeah, we’re pals, but I’m still responsible for you,” Jack stated.

“Give yourself a break, Jack, you’re not my dad,” Race insisted, folding up his notebook and shoving it in his bag as he sat up.

Jack shrugged, something inside him breaking just a little. “No... no I’m not...”

“And I’m cool with that! I’m used to bein’ on my own...” The words were familiar to Jack. The boy stood. He followed suit. “It’s made me realize that I have ta look out for myself... so... I’ll see ya later... thanks for the window...”

The words were genuine. But the kid still walked away from him.

He only made it a few steps before Jack crosses his arms over his chest. “Antonio!” he called. “Get back here. Now.”

The boy listened to him. He never knew why. But he did.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere—“

“I’m goin’ ta Europe—“

“You’re goin’ ta Texas,” Jack deadpanned. “N’ while there ain’t nothin’ wrong with Texas, you’re fourteen, ya got no money, ya got no clue what you’re gettin’ yourself into. Ya think there might be a chance that I know what I’m talkin’ about?”

Race looked down at his feet. He rocked back and forth a bit. “I dunno...”

“Well I do... you’re comin’ home with me where you belong,” he decided. Because Race couldn’t have this choice. This choice to run away. Jack couldn’t let him go through that. He’d starve himself to death or get caught up in the wrong crowd and he didn’t need to know what any of that life felt like. “Look... if you really wanna go ta Europe... we’ll go t’gether. Next summer,” he promised.

The way those big blue eyes trailed up to him where heartbreaking. But a small smile made Jack feel whole again. “I could get behind that...” the boy decided.

Jack nodded. “Only if you start goin’ ta class n’ gettin’ your grades up. Yeah?”

Before Race could even think of a response, an old man sitting in a chair beside them cleared his throat, pointing over at the boy. “I’d listen to your dad if I were you, kid,” he winked.

Something warm flooded through Race at those words. He couldn’t describe the feeling. But he knew it was good. And Jack chuckled.

“Yeah... yeah I think I will,” Tony agreed. So Jack nodded at the man in thanks before wrapping an arm around his student... his kid... and leading him out of that bus station.

“Let’s go home...”

Ooooh Racer... What a guy...

Also, if any of ya’ll would like to be on a tag list for this story, let me know!

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